


Young and a Menace

by RedHeadsRock1010



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: ??? - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, At least he thinks he is, Canon but things change because Eren is even more of a suicidal idiot, Gen, Titan Eren Yeager, Titan Shifters, never did some stupid bullshit, that forced his healing abilities to kick it, that twleve year old Eren, you're telling me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-02-27 09:42:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18736510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedHeadsRock1010/pseuds/RedHeadsRock1010
Summary: An accident with a knife during his time in the 104th Training Corps forces Eren Jaeger to realize that something is very wrong with him.Featuring: one suicidal idiot and a lot more exploration of shifter biology than canon





	1. Accident

**Author's Note:**

> Potential trigger warnings: cutting, blood

_A man deep within the confines of his own drunkenness bellowed a laugh that echoed across the bar._

_“You always were such a pretentious bastard, pretending like you know more than everyone else,” the man cackled, ignoring the annoyed looks from other customers. “But paradise? That’s a bit of a stretch even for someone like you.”_

_The man across from him watched his friend take another swing from his glass. “Is that so?” he wondered. “You told me once the people within these walls do not live in fear of titans, despite being surrounded by them.”_

_The drunk snorted. “A caged animal does nothing but feel pleased when it is given food, and praise the walls that keep it separated from danger. A person could live years content with life if it’s bars are too far apart to be seen as a cage.”_

_“And the Survey Corps?”_

_The drunk once again laughed, slamming his glass down to stare straight into the bright eyes of his strange friend. “Idiots is what we are. Fools who think having willpower means immunity. You told me once that we’re ‘chosen.’ We’re just filling *hic* their bellies.”_

_Keith hollered for another glass while his friend eyed him speculatively. When the newly filled glass once again found the drunk’s mouth, the sober man looked away._

_“They’ll come eventually,” he said, eyes closed. “You won’t be prepared.”_

_“Titans can bang all they want on those walls,” Keith slurred, finger pointed at his friend. “We can’t leave, and they can’t get in.”_

_The man huffed, a sad smile on his face. His expression seemed to upset his friend, who had just finished his glass. “You still think titans are the enemy?”_

_“What else?”_

_“Humans.”_

_“Piss off.”_

_The sober man laughed, deep and low, opening his eyes once more. “You’re drunk, Keith,” he said, affectionately._

_“No fuckin shit. And you’re supposed to be a doctor. And smart. Don’t know what Carla sees in you,” Keith complained, edging into a drunken ramble as he pressed his face to the table. “People. What a load of horseshit. We fighting the government now too? Sure would like to punch ‘em in the face. Smug little bastards, sayin’ we’re wasting their money. Lazy shits.”_

_Keith moaned, throwing an arm over the back of his head. “Maybe you’re drunk,” he said, thumb haphazardly pointed forward. “How can you say such stupid things with confidence?”_

_His friend smiled; green eyes bright and endless, staring at Keith as if a single look could express the wonder and joy he felt the first time they met. A gaze that looked out over the Shiganshina district and saw hope instead of trapped animals._

_“Because I was born outside these walls,” he said._

o.O.o.O.o.O.o

Distracted as he was, Eren didn’t notice the pain at first.

Cadets were required to fulfill a minimum of two hours per day of duties in the kitchen, monitored by the head cooks, and completing tasks such as boiling potatoes, cutting vegetables, and preparing meals for the evening. Jean and Eren were usually paired together for kitchen duty, a fact that made them curse their luck, and after an extremely loud fight, Jean was tasked with gathering the food from the shed across from the barracks while Eren sliced through potatoes for the evening’s soup.

There was a small window overlooking the courtyard that Eren used to wave cheerfully at Jean when the seething pre-teen stomped away. Already looking outside, Eren noticed Mikasa and Armin talking to two recruits he didn’t recognize, and by the looks on their faces Eren could already guess what the conversation was about.

It was their first year in the Training Corps, barely a few months had passed since Eren managed to balance on the apparatus, and they were still fresh recruits with three years left until they could join a branch of the military. Eren knew people would call him crazy for wanting to join the Scouting Legion and question his motives, but what he hadn’t expected was for everyone to be so interested in Titans.

And his hometown.

The only other cadets who’d seen a Titan before were Reiner and Bertholdt who lived somewhere within Wall Maria before it’s fall, but only Armin, Mikasa, and Eren came from the Shiganshina district where the Titans first appeared. Everyone who wasn’t there wanted to know about the greatest lost to humanity.

Eren hated the shitty brat his ten-year-old self was. He ran and fought to live, but the first thing he said to himself the day the Colossal Titan appeared was that he wasn’t going to live to see the outside world within Armin’s books. Eren didn’t know if it was human nature to give up or fight, but one always came first – nature – and the second was what you chose to do. At twelve-years-old and determined to not just survive this time, Eren wanted to fight.

People like Jean though, and even the other cadets, wanted to run. They wanted the easy life. They hadn’t even seen a Titan, didn’t know the mind-numbing terror of coming face-to-face with one, and they were already running scared. And it pissed him off.

Every time a cadet pulled Armin, Mikasa, or Eren aside to ask about Titans and the fall of their hometown, Eren thought they’d understand the importance of why they needed to keep fighting, but they only used his story to reaffirm their belief that fighting the Titans was a losing battle. The very things that motivated Eren to slaughter every last monster in this shitty existence turned the people around him into cowards. 

Eren watched Mikasa glare at the two cadets outside. They were probably saying something ridiculously stupid about them being suicidal for wanting to face the Titan again and Eren _hated their fucking ignorance–_

The pain didn’t register at first, just the dull thud of the knife hitting the cutting board. Potatoes weren’t supposed to gush liquid, however, and when Eren felt something warm wash over his hand he looked down. In his anger, Eren had slammed the knife down at the wrong angle and sliced through his thumb.

He blinked, realizing _it fucking hurt holy shit–_

Eren grabbed his hand and held it to his chest, clenching his mouth together to prevent himself from screaming and alerting the head cooks preparing a stew at the other end of the kitchen. The sound that escaped through his teeth mimicked a heavy whistle.

Blood was on the cutting board and pouring over his clothes to spill onto the floor. The severed piece of this thumb lay across the counter and _how the hell had he managed to cut so hard he sliced through bone?_

It was nothing compared to the pain of watching his mom get eaten – couldn’t even compare to what she had felt in that moment – but the fact that he’d cut his thumb off settled into cold realization at the bottom of his stomach. 

He wouldn’t be able to operate the omni-directional mobility gear. He couldn’t release the trigger or swing a blade at a Titan without a thumb. If it had been a finger – any fucking finger – he would have been fine, but humans had opposable thumbs for a reason, and it wasn’t to look pretty.

Eren sunk to the floor, holding his hand to his chest and staring blankly in front of him. He had to hide this. He had to clean up the blood and what? Pretend it was fine? Figure out a way to operate a device that needed opposable thumbs with only his fingers?

One of the cooks behind him banged a pot on the counter and Eren jerked out of his daze, noticing he was sitting in blood. Jean was going to be back any minute.

Eren quickly tore off the dirty apron he wore – mandatory for working in the kitchen – and used it to mop up the blood on the cutting board, knife, and floor. The thing was already covered in food, surely no one would miss it. His stump was still bleeding profusely so Eren hid the apron under his shirt and wrapped a kitchen rag around his hand. He looked ridiculous and his hand hurt like a bitch, but if he could make it out the door before Jean came back or one of the cooks turned around then he could ditch the bloody apron in the river outside the barracks and sneak bandages from an emergency pack. 

He heard the door to the kitchen open and panicked, snatching his severed thumb and ducking behind a counter.

“What the– hey, where’d the reckless idiot run off to?” Eren heard Jean shout.

“Bathroom,” a cook offered, obviously not paying attention. Eren heard Jean huff in response, dropping something heavy on the ground.

“Of course, he’d skive off kitchen duty. Waited until I was gone before running off to murder a rabbit or something. Jerk.”

Eren resisted the urge to punch him. That would also be a lot harder to do without a thumb.

When he heard Jean’s footsteps leave, having already dropped off one load from the shed, Eren clutched his stomach to keep the apron hidden and ran out the door. The cooks might have seen him, but hopefully wouldn’t think anything of it.

It was the middle of the afternoon and anyone who wasn’t on kitchen, laundry, or stables duty was performing gear maintenance with Instructor Keith Shadis. Knowing nobody would be in the barracks at this time, Eren avoided anyone loitering about the courtyard and slipped into the room where the trainees slept. Because Jean and Eren were always fighting, Krista had brought a bag of medicine and bandages and hid it under the bunk bed in the corner to tend to any major injuries. So far, they hadn’t needed to use it, but Eren thanked Krista for thinking of it.

First, he stuffed the apron so far into the laundry hamper that hopefully no one would notice it when it came time to wash their clothes for the week. Maybe he could convince Sasha to trade him for her laundry duty. Then, making sure not to drip any blood on the floor, Eren switched the kitchen rag for a proper bandage. Just in case, he wrapped it higher than it needed to be in order to create the illusion that he still had a thumb. 

When he finished, Eren leaned back against the edge of the bunk bed and breathed deeply. All his plans for revenge, everything he’d worked for, all the years he, Mikasa, and Armin spent surviving off scraps as refugees could all be for nothing if he couldn’t figure this out.

The pain dulled to a numbing throb. He looked down at his hand and thought of every curse word he could come up with. He’d survived Titans, but an accident with a kitchen knife was what ruined everything? What kind of fucked up God was in charge of this existence?

“Shit,” he cursed, squeezing his eyes shut and slamming his head against the wall. He refused to cry. Not even the sheer frustration at how much everything sucked right now could force him to be that pathetic.

He couldn’t tell Mikasa, she was always looking for excuses to make Eren reconsider joining the Survey Corps. Armin would be even worse, begging Eren not to die for ‘something stupid and reckless’ like operating gear without a functioning hand. Instructor Shadis would take one look at him and claim he was a liability. He’d be sent back to the refugee camps without a second thought.

Eren breathed deeply through his nose and opened his eyes. No matter what happened, Eren swore on his mother’s name he would find a way to murder every last titan on this earth, with or without the military’s help.

o.O.o.O.o.O.o

The dinner chime was inevitable and Eren grudgingly made his way to the dining hall. He grabbed his food and sat with Mikasa and Armin in the corner, trying to hide his bandaged hand, but hiding anything from Mikasa was impossible.

She grabbed his arm and tugged the injured limb forward. “Eren,” she said, a scolding tone.

“Don’t baby me,” Eren snapped, ripping his arm away. Thankfully his dominate hand was still functional. “I’m fine, just a cut from working in the kitchens.”

“Must have been a bad one to use that many bandages,” Armin observed, taking a bite out of his bread. “We’re running training simulations tomorrow; will you be okay?”

Eren tried not to think of the severed piece of his thumb he buried in the dirt outside the barracks. 

“I’ll be fine,” he grumbled, scooping a spoonful of soup and glaring at the chopped pieces of potato inside. He hoped those fucking potatoes were worth it.

“YOU,” an angry voice shouted over the sound of everyone eating. Eren scowled, looking up to the angry face of Jean pointing at him. “You lazy piece of shit.”

“Jean,” Connie said, wryly, “starting it a bit early today, aren’t you?”

Jean shoved Connie aside. “This jerk skived off kitchen duty today. Bathroom break, my ass! You were gone for hours.”

Eren scoffed, showing his hand. “I wasn’t skiving, I just sliced myself on accident. Even horse-faced idiots like you should know potatoes and blood don’t taste well together.” 

Eren noticed several of the weak-willed cadets push away their soup warily. 

“HOURS!” Jena emphasized again, snagging Eren’s shirt and pulling him upright. “So what if you got a little scraped up, you don’t disappear and leave all the work for me.”

Eren grabbed the hand holding his shirt with his dominate arm. “Fuck off, Jean, I could beat you onehanded.”

“Try me!”

Eren slammed a kick into Jean gut and choked when he retaliated with an elbow to the ribs. In the background Eren heard a combination of cheering and what sounded like annoyed sighs.

Forgetting for a moment that his hand was injured, Eren launched his left arm forward for a punch but was tripped by Jean’s ankle. On the ground with Jean on top of him, Eren shoved an elbow into his neck. The two of them wrestled back and forth until Mikasa grabbed Eren by the back of his shirt and lifted him straight into the air.

“Mikasa!” Eren and Jean said with two very different tones of voice. Eren’s adopted sister glared at Jean, making Eren feel just the tiniest bit smug despite his annoyance. 

“Eren is injured,” she said, depositing Eren onto the bench next to Armin who smiled weakly at him.

Jean propped himself up on his elbows and frowned. “I bet there’s not even a scratch on him,” he grumbled, accepting Connie’s hand when he reached down to help him up. 

“You horse-faced idiot, I wouldn’t be wearing this for the hell of it,” Eren said, raising his bandaged limb, but froze at the sight of his hand fully exposed. The bandages must have fallen off during their fight.

Even while Jean scoffed and complained about there ‘barely being any blood at all’ Eren stared incredulously at the thumb he shouldn’t have.

“You’re always going on about destroying all the Titans and you couldn’t even handle a paper cut?” Jean hissed, but he sat down to eat his dinner with another annoyed huff, letting the argument drop.

Eren moved the tip of his thumb, sucking in a shocked breath when it responded. 

“Are you okay?” Armin asked, looking worried.

“Fine,” Eren answered. He slowly lowered his hand.

Mikasa sat on the other side of Eren and gently took his hand to wrap the bandage around his thumb again. There was blood still decorating the cloth, but Eren hoped Mikasa didn’t notice there wasn’t a single cut where it could have come from.

When his friends resumed eating and the rest of the cadets went back to ignoring them, Eren used his right hand to pick up his spoon.

After what felt like decades, the cadets began turning in for the night. Eren allowed Mikasa to clean his dishes, ignoring his friend’s odd looks when he didn’t complain about being treated like he was weak. He couldn’t even remember the excuse he gave to reassure them. 

When they’d finally settled in for the night, Eren listened carefully for any movement. His fellow trainees were deeply breathing, spread out across their beds for at least twenty minutes before Erin slipped out of his. He didn’t bother putting on his shoes, sliding open the door just enough to squeeze through but prevent any moonlight from getting in. He closed the door then kneeled down in the dirt a couple feet away from the building. 

Making sure no guards were out, Eren dug deep into the earth. When he found his severed flesh, he picked it up with shaking hands and held it in the palm of his hand, comparing it to his new fully functioning, attached thumb. 

His thumb had grown back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** You’re telling me that in all those years of Eren being a stupid, suicidal, reckless twelve, thirteen, fourteen-year-old in a military training camp… he never once got injured enough to notice “Oh fukc, look at that,,, the giant gash in my leg from a training accident with big pointy swords carried by a fucking child mysteriously disappeared in an hour,,, amazing.” I call bullshit.
> 
> This is my first time writing something for this fandom to relieve my writers block. I’ll see how the reaction is before I write more, but this fandom is SERIOUSLY LACKING in the number of good canon-divergent fanfics. Everything is AU, come on… let’s make canon happier.
> 
> I’m a fan of Attack on Titan, but not an avid fan who knows every aspect of the manga and anime off the top of my head. I’ll try to be accurate, but I don’t really care if something is a little off in this fic.
> 
> Title of the story is from Fall out Boy's "Young and Menace." There's a super neat SNK MEP on Youtube with this song so go check it out if you can.


	2. Shield

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armin was the smart one. Mikasa was the strong one. Eren would be the shield.

_“…a lifetime of work.”_

_“….helping? Should you… the basement…”_

_“…completely unknown.”_

_“…the children out of this…”_

_“…prepare…will come to them… war…”_

_The voices stopped and Eren nervously gasped, stepping back from his hiding spot. He heard his mother’s footsteps and knew it was pointless to pretend he wasn’t listening._

_“Eren,” his mom said, opening the kitchen door where Eren used a crack to watch them from the hallway. “You should be in bed.”_

_“Not tired,” Eren said._

_Mom tugged on his ear. “You’re turning red,” she teased. “Was Mikasa snoring again?”_

_Eren smiled, then looked warily at the figure behind his mom. Dad was frowning._

_“Sorry,” Eren said, bowing his head. “I heard you talking about the basement.”_

_Mom hummed. “Of course, your father is doing very important work, but I was just telling him to remember to eat dinner with us more often. We’re a family, after all.”_

_“Okay,” Eren said. It would be nice to see Dad more. “What’s Dad working on?”_

_“Things not for little boys,” Mom said, pushing Eren gently on his back._

_“But I’m not little,” Eren complained, glaring over his shoulder._

_“Maybe someday, Eren,” Dad said. “Give yourself time. Have fun with Armin and Mikasa.”_

_“Grisha,” Mom scolded._

_Eren groaned. Who cared about fun? He wanted to know what was so important about the basement. Wasn’t he old enough already? He wanted to join the Survey Corps – not that he’d ever tell his mom that._

__

__

_“Promise,” Eren called out before Mom pushed him out of view. Dad didn’t answer, but he smiled and made a crossing motion over his heart._

_Tucked into bed again by his mother – and ignoring Mikasa’s ridiculous snoring from the cot across the room – Eren grinned, mimicking the crossing motion over his chest twice before falling asleep with a smile._

o.O.o.O.o.O.o

“I had the absolute misfortune of being assigned to train all of you,” Commander Shadis shouted at the cadets swinging from the trees. “So much as scratch this equipment and I will personally see to it that you spend the next year washing the laundry alone.”

It was their first day practicing with the omni-directional mobility gear. Only a couple months into the training and most of their focus was in the classroom with Titan research or hand to hand combat with fake knives and ridiculous tricks to fool human enemies.

Eren wondered why exactly they were practicing fighting people. Armin theorized it was for the cadets set on joining the Military Police who needed to keep the peace within the wall, but it still pissed Eren off to no end that hand to hand combat was taught first. Like a punch could really save you from a Titan.

“Take things slow,” Mikasa always said. “We’re here to learn. We have time.”

Eren didn’t want to take things slow, especially not after yesterday. 

Catching his lines on a branch, Eren swung left and mocked slicing through a Titan’s neck with his hands. 

“Put your back into it, Cadet Jaeger!” Commander Shadis ordered. “You only get one shot or you’re Titan food.”

Eren gritted his teeth, landing on another branch to catch his breath. Beside him, Connie swung too low and slammed face-first into a tree.

“CADET SPRINGER,” Commander Shadis yelled. Connie groaned, barely holding onto the trunk of the tree. Thankfully the Commander was distracted by Mikasa and Annie’s perfect movements long enough to ignore his blunder.

Eren watched the two girls swing as if they’d been doing it their whole lives. It was their first day, for fucks sake. The biggest mistake either had made was overshooting one of the cables and needing to compensate to stay upright. Not to mention Jean’s seemingly natural grace as well. It gave Eren some comfort that Jean at least caught a tree branch to the gut once or twice every so often.

Commander Shadis watched with a critical eye as the three of them swung passed. Jean wobbled on the last launch but otherwise made it to the tree Connie and Eren were on.

“How’s that for natural talent?” Jean mocked, glaring at Eren. 

Landing next to him, Mikasa nodded. “Eren,” she acknowledged. Eren ignored the fact she was checking his bandaged hand, wrapped for appearances only.

Jean grumbled unhappily and turned around.

Armin swung in too high but thankfully Reiner and Marco caught him before he could tumble over the edge of the tree. When everyone landed where Commander Shadis marked, he nodded, looking down at his clipboard.

“Annie Leonhart, Mikasa Ackerman, and Reiner Braun, the three of you will demonstrate the exercise with blades,” the Commander ordered, pointing at six boxes next to him meant to attach onto their equipment.

Eren gritted his teeth in anger. He hadn’t made the cut. Not even Jean’s annoyed grumbling could cheer him up at this moment.

Mikasa, Annie, and Reiner attached the equipment with ease, shifting to adjust to its heavy weight. The cadets in the trees watched as Shadis ordered two men who assisted in training to set up a wooden Titan near the center of the clearing. 

“In a minute, starting from the ground, I want each of you to aim for the nape,” Commander Shadis said. “You must maneuver around each other, you must not cross lines, and you must dig deep enough for your blades to kill it: one meter long and ten centimeters wide. Do not disappoint me.”

“Think he’ll go easy on them because it’s their first try?” Thomas wondered.

“I heard it took a lot of convincing for the Commander to get permission to train us so early on with maneuver gear,” Jean said, sitting down to watch. “Of course, with how quickly the Scouts die, they were bound to have extra gear just sitting around.”

If Eren were paying attention, he would have noticed Jean turn to grin at him then frown when he didn’t say anything.

“Begin,” Commander Shadis commanded, and Annie, Mikasa, and Reiner launched into the air with ease.

Annie was first, digging deep enough on the top portion of the Titan to kill it. Mikasa followed with the same size and shape cut near the bottom of the nape, but when Reiner went to slice, he overshot and one of his swords hit the wood and metal casings that attached the soft material of the fake nape to the back of the Titan.

Reiner was strong, but even so the equipment must have been old and dulled for the ultrahard steel to break off so easily. The sound grated their ears and the cadets in the trees watched as a portion of the blade broke off and headed their way.

It was maybe less than a second, but Eren saw the blade coming for Connie and thought “I could survive that.” He stepped in front of Connie who remained frozen and wide-eyed, catching the blade in his shoulder and crying out. He’d forgotten it would hurt.

“Shit!” Eren heard Reiner curse, then the sound of cables reattaching to their tree. 

“Eren!” Armin yelled, followed by Connie and then Mikasa’s similar shout of his name.

“Cadet Jaeger, nurses station now,” Commander Shadis said, pointing in the direction of the buildings. “Do you require assistance?”

Although his shoulder burned, Eren shook his head, digging his nails into his arm. “No, I’ll walk.”

Mikasa opened her mouth to argue but Eren glared. For some reason, this seemed to put her at ease, although she moved to help him out of the tree. He thought she’d put up more of a fight.

“You’re even more of a suicidal idiot than I thought,” Jean decided to butt in, completely unable to keep his mouth shut. Probably a mental problem.

“E-Eren,” Connie said, tugging his sleeve before Mikasa maneuvered them to the ground. “T-Thank you. That would have hit my head.”

Eren nodded but felt uneasy that saving the shorter cadet hadn’t been the first thing that popped into his head. Still, ulterior motives or not, at Connie’s height the blade could have killed him. 

Mikasa lowered Eren to the ground, checking once more that he was okay to walk back on his own. She ordered him to keep the blade in his shoulder so he wouldn’t bleed out.

“Mikasa, leave it,” Eren said, tugging his shoulder away. She frowned.

“You seem to attract knives,” Mikasa said, glaring at the blade. Eren wondered if Reiner was going to be spared from her rage.

“I’m fine. Make sure Armin doesn’t break anything,” Eren sighed, pushing her away and heading back to the camp. Behind him, he heard her cables embed in a tree again.

The training courtyard and barracks were far enough away for the trees to cover Eren from the sight of both the cadets he left behind and those on the training grounds. After about five minutes when he reached the halfway point, he ducked to the left and headed to the river. 

His arm still throbbed painfully. With every movement the steel seemed to dig deeper into his shoulder. The river came into view and Eren sank to his knees at the edge of it, taking a deep breath before steeling himself and tugging the blade out. It reopened the wound and Eren clenched his teeth so he wouldn’t cry out: he was far away from the other trainees but not that far.

Hands shaking, Eren dropped the blade in the grass. There was blood everywhere.

He breathed deeply twice then stared down at his wound. Minutes passed and nothing happened except having to add dizzy and slowly bleeding out to Eren’s list of problems.

“Fuck,” he cursed, finally giving in and covering the wound with his shirt. This was a dumb idea; completely reckless. So what if his thumb had grown back, that didn’t mean he could suddenly miraculously heal any injury. 

He sat back on his heels and sighed. He’d have to go to the nurse’s station now, if he could even make it back before passing out. He could imagine Jean’s annoying face laughing at the “suicidal maniac” dying in a ditch during training instead of being taken down by a Titan. Just another misery to add to Eren’s slowly growing list.

The sound of cables firing jerked Eren out of his daze and he jumped to his feet, ducking behind a tree. Someone had followed him. 

After a moment of breathing heavily, Eren realized the sound hadn’t stopped like it would for cables to retract to allow someone to launch again. The hissing air sounded close. Steam caught his attention out of the corner of his eye and he suddenly realized his shoulder was covered in it.

Eren let out a startled yell, falling sideways and catching himself with his other arm. He held out his injured one and watched as the wound slowly closed up, hissing as it did. 

He stared, breathing heavily until it sunk it. The cut was gone. The rip in his shirt was there and the blood on his clothes didn’t evaporate, but _the cut was gone._

“Ha,” Eren breathed, curling into himself and holding his shoulder. It was still warm. 

“I healed it. It’s gone,” he whispered, tone bordering hysterical. “Like––” Eren stopped. He sucked in another breath and leaned backwards against a tree. 

“What the hell,” he said, looking at the sky.

This wasn’t possible. Eren was one hundred percent certain he wasn’t ridiculously tall and didn’t want to eat people. They’d learned about a Titan’s healing factor in training. When Wall Maria fell, barely anyone had the gear required to fight the Titans so Eren never saw it up close, but the texts from Titan theory and research they spent months looking over in the classroom vividly described the process with pictures. What he just saw should not be possible.

Eren realized he was probably panicking. He could feel his heartbeat through his ribcage as the last of the steam evaporated. 

He needed to see it again.

Eren looked for anything sharp near him and quickly grabbed a rock to run across his forearm. He cut just enough for a small trail of blood to leak out. After a full minute of nothing happening, Eren, still breathing heavily, yelled: “Well?!”

Another few seconds and Eren slammed his arm against the tree behind him. Air hissed and suddenly the cut closed up, good as new. Eren stared, running his finger over the healed skin. Did he have to consciously think about it for it to work? He hadn’t been thinking about his thumb miraculously growing back at dinner, but he remembered moving to punch Jean with his injured hand. Maybe he healed out of necessity. 

“This is insane,” Eren decided. He covered his face with his hands and slammed his head backwards against the tree twice. “I’m going insane.”

Eren briefly toyed with the idea of telling Armin and Mikasa. Would they be afraid of him? 

_Probably not,_ he thought. Mikasa would sooner toss him over her shoulder and scale Wall Rose to live in isolation with just the three of him than turn him over to the Military Police. 

Eren had absolutely no idea what was happening but telling anyone would be a death sentence. He’d be labeled an enemy of humanity. Unwillingly, Eren thought of Captain Levi of the Survey Corps, someone he looked up to who knew more about Titans than anyone, then paled when he recalled all the confirmed kills the man had.

Not a good idea.

He looked down at his bloody shirt, wondering if he was cursed. He absolutely could not be related in any way to the thing that ate his mother. That would – Eren swallowed, dropping his chin to his chest and trying desperately not to think of the last thing he’d ever said to his mom.

Their research on Titans was so lacking, and Eren hated the fact humanity knew nothing about where they came from, why they ate humans, and what the world was like before Titans wiped out the population. Why is the nape of their necks their weakness? What material were Titans made out of? How could they heal so quickly and why did they require sunlight to move? It was pathetic how little anyone knew about the beings that tormented their very existence. Shouldn’t someone have figured this out already? (Was there anyone else out there who could heal like this?)

His chin bumped something hard and Eren pulled out the key hidden under his shirt; eyebrows narrowed as he turned it over. When had his father given this to him?

Eren sat up straighter. He hadn’t. His dad never gave him this key; he’d promised to show him what was in the basement, but he’d never given him the key to it. How did Eren have it?

There was no way the basement had anything to do with what was happening to him now. Eren looked down at the key in his hand. But what if his dad had been working on some sort of weapon to fight the Titans? He was a doctor. Was Eren that weapon?

_“Everything, Eren…. the answer… get to the basement.”_

Eren shut his eyes, rubbing the sides of his head as the image of his father disappeared.

“Dad,” he said to the silent forest, “what the hell did you do?”

o.O.o.O.o.O.o

Jean slammed his plate down across from Eren at dinner.

“All right,” he said, eyes narrowed. “It’s been two days without a single murderous rant from you.”

“Are you worried about me, Jean?” Eren asked.

“Considering you keep getting stabbed, I figured you’d turned your attention to raging a war on knives instead of Titans.”

Eren heard several of the cadets laugh. He clenched his fist tight around his spoon. “Not in the mood.”

Jean’s glare narrowed. His eyes looked down at Eren’s hand and shoulder. 

“Soon you’ll be covered from head to toe in bandages,” he grumbled, shoving bread into his mouth and chewing angrily. Whatever fight he had in him seemed to deflate, thankfully.

“It is kind of funny, Eren,” Marco said, smiling kindly. “Are you feeling okay? Reiner felt really bad afterwards.”

“Fine,” Eren said, feeling like he’d been saying nothing but that for the past two days. He watched Marco tease Jean about how fast he was tearing into his bread. “Hey, you want to go into the Military Police, right?”

Marco looked excited. “Yes! I want to serve the King. It’s the highest honor.”

“What do you think they’re like?”

“Like?” Marco hummed. “Well, I suppose they’re probably noble. We had a few soldiers patrol my town in Wall Rose. They were always nice to us and talked about how important it was to serve the King.”

“Have you changed your mind, Eren?” Armin asked.

“If a couple of knives could change this idiots mind about joining the Survey Corps, we should have tried stabbing him a long time”–– Jean was cut off when Reiner elbowed him in the back.

“I’m really sorry about today, Eren,” Reiner said, looking sheepish. “If it makes you feel any better, Commander Shadis has me on laundry duty for the next two weeks.”

“I can take it from you,” Eren said, a little too quickly, surprising those at the table. He pointed at his bandages with his good arm. “Laundry is easier than kitchen duty. Plus, I don’t think I could survive another second of Jean’s pissy attitude.”

Jean tried launching himself across the table, but Reiner held a steadfast grip on his shirt. “Sure, anything,” Reiner agreed. “But are you really thinking about joining the Military Police? You’d have to get in the top ten in the next three years.”

“No,” Eren said, eyes narrowed. “I’m not a coward” –– Reiner switched to gripping Jean’s shirt with both hands instead of one –– “and I won’t run from Titans. I just wanted to know if they were fair. Are there trails or anything? Do they do research on Titans?”

Marco took over explaining everything he could remember about the Police who visited his town, but the more Eren listened the more he was sure he absolutely needed to avoid these people.

Whatever their job was, it seemed steadfast. Follow orders first, ask questions later. The Survey Corps, even with Captain Levi watching his every move, really was his best bet. Eren pressed his hand against his shirt, feeling the key beneath it. Especially if he wanted to return to his father’s basement.

Jean finally managed to shove Reiner off his back. 

“Fair?” Jean said, laughing. “They aren’t fair, no matter what this idealistic idiot next to me will tell you. They’re safe. You ever wonder why only the top ten get the choice to join the Military Police? The better you are at fighting Titans, the further they place you from ever encountering them. How’s that for fair?”

Eren heard Armin’s shocked gasp and even felt Mikasa shift beside him. Absently, he noticed the dining area was quieter than usual. Everyone was listening.

“And you still want to join them,” Eren said through clenched teeth.

“They’re safe. Not everyone wants to die heroically in battle.”

Eren stood up, slamming his hands against the table. “I don’t want to die a hero, Jean. I want to live.”

Jean snorted. “You sure have an odd way of showing that. Why don’t you go farther in the walls where it’s safer if you want to live so badly?”

“That’s surviving,” Eren shouted. “I’ve done nothing but survive since Wall Maria fell. You have a place you can go home to if none of this works out. Ours is _gone_.” 

The hall was silent. 

“I want to go home, Jean,” Eren said, sitting down again. “I want to know why this happened. Why my town is in ruins, why Titans exist, why they eat people. I am tired of surviving and I am tired of losing. If you can live the rest of your life not knowing the answer to anything, then fine, but I can’t. I want answers, and I’m not going to get them until every Titan is wiped off this Earth.”

A few more seconds of silence where Eren and Jean glared at each other, then suddenly Krista realized Sasha had stolen more than half of her table’s food during the yelling match. With the tension broken and Ymir fighting Sasha for Krista’s bread roll, Eren continued eating, doing his best to ignore the metaphorical storm cloud over Jean’s head.

“You guys are really passionate about this, huh,” Connie said, awkwardly. 

“I want to see the outside world,” Armin answered, smiling shyly. “And Eren’s always hated being trapped.”

“I go where Armin and Eren go,” Mikasa said when they turned to look at her. Jean huffed.

“Do you really think we stand a chance against them?” Reiner asked. He looked worried. “Bertholdt and I saw Titans once and that was more than enough.”

Eren looked at his bandaged hand. “I think it’s never been more important than now to stand up to them.”

“Sorry,” Armin apologized waving at those still listening to them. “Eren talks pretty big. He’s always been dramatic.”

“What the hell, Armin,” Eren complained, shoving him. The others laughed.

“Tough words for someone who keeps losing to a knife,” Jean muttered.

Reiner, probably still suffering from guilt at having inflicted one of those wounds, cuffed Jean on the head before joining Bertholdt at another table. Eren wished he could tell him it was fine. Not like it left a mark or anything.

But did he really talk big without doing anything to back it up? Is that the way people saw him? Eren looked around at the other cadets eating and talking like nothing had happened. Was he just known as the guy who spouted out Titan-raving nonsense? The guy who fought with Jean every meal?

Eren looked to his left where Armin smiled at Marco and Connie across the table. Armin was the smart one. To his right, Mikasa focused on her food while Jean tried to engage her in conversation. Mikasa was the strong one. Where did Eren fit into this? Loud? Idealistic?

He looked down at the knife next to his spoon on the table, picking it up with his good hand and seeing his reflection. 

He could heal. Eren was a _shield._

With this he could protect everyone important to him; he could survive things they couldn’t, and with military training he could be the spear too. A shield and a spear that slaughtered every Titan on this earth. He was meant to be a weapon, right?

He curled his fingers around the knife, smiling. Now he just had to figure out how to use this power.

“Seriously though,” Jean's annoying voice cut into Eren’s thoughts. He pointed at Eren's hand. “If you stab yourself with that, I’m telling the Commander to baby-proof the camp.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** Another pet peeve of mine: when writers make the wives or love interests completely ignorant to the absolute fuckery that is going on with a main male character. Grisha doesn’t hide shit from his wife – at least not most of the important stuff. 
> 
> Literally part of his proposal was probably: _“Hey, we’re not the last of humanity and I was born somewhere else. If we want to start a family, you should know there may or may not be an entire world out there that thinks you’re all devils and wants you dead. Also, I have a theory that your military is a corrupt piece of shit, but I may need a few years to research a way to save everyone here and find the real royal family. Also, if we have a kid, he needs to be named Eren for personal reasons. Cool?”_
> 
> Carla, already slipping the ring on her finger: _“What the fuck you absolute disaster of a human being.”_


	3. Experiments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m becoming my father,” Eren whispered, slamming a palm against his forehead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for blood, self harm, and general body yuck. It's not explicitly explained.

_“That was awesome,” Eren grinned, looking over his shoulder, a basket of fruit in his arms._

_Armin grinned, red paste dripping down his face. “He ran away scared,” he cheered._

_Mikasa nodded. “He was very terrified.”_

_“Eren made the paste,” Armin admitted, shy._

_“Yeah, but you were the one who came up with the idea,” Eren said. Armin was always looking down on himself. It was stupid. “Fake accident for free food. Amazing! And Mikasa swiped the basket so fast I didn’t even see her.”_

_Mikasa looked pleased, smiling._

_“Mom will be so happy,” Eren said, “but let’s not tell her how we got it, okay?”_

_“Blame Hannes,” Mikasa offered._

_“Perfect.”_

_Eren knew his mom was out but he hadn’t expected his dad to be home. Dad looked up from the table when they walked in and froze under his stare. Eren hid the basket behind himself._

_“What is this?” Dad asked, standing up._

_“Nothing,” Eren said, hurried._

_Dad knelt down in front of them and ran his thumb over the red paste Eren made. He looked strange. His eyes were weird._

_“Dad?” Eren asked._

_“Where did you get this?”_

_Eren suddenly felt very shy. “Made it.”_

_Dad was silent for a moment before he pulled him into his chest. Eren dropped the basket in surprise._

_“Oh,” Eren heard Armin say from behind him. Eren wondered what kind of face his dad was making._

_Dad pulled away and smiled. “Well, it seems you take after me, Eren. You made something new. What do you want to call it?”_

_Eren blinked. He got to name it? All he did was mix Mom’s cooking stuff and some berry guts from a bush with water. Dad was looking at him warmly, though, and Eren smiled._

_“Guts Goop,” Eren decided._

_Dad laughed, surprising the kids. Dad looked so happy. Eren had never seen him smile like that._

_“Well,” Dad said, patting his head, “you could call it that, but what do you think about ‘paint’ instead?”_

_"You always make up weird words," Eren whined._

_His dad named one of their plants 'photo' once, whatever that meant. Eren liked his name better, but seeing his dad laugh and smile was worth letting him name 'Guts Goop' something weird. Eren couldn't wait to tell Mom._

__

o.O.o.O.o.O.o

Eren would like to say trials one through eight were as successful as they were bloody.

That was a lie, but Eren does what he wants. As there were no witnesses, the only person Eren had to lie to was himself.

Trial nine dialed back the spilled blood to focus on bruises, which went away faster than any injury, and trial ten consisted of Eren eating a poisonous plant. Other than a stomach ache, trial ten was the most successful in the sense Eren didn’t look like a fool or turn the ground into a murder scene. 

He discovered small cuts took anywhere between thirty seconds to a full minute to heal depending on his health. Deeper stab wounds closer to his heart or brain healed faster than stab wounds to his limbs but required half an hour of rest until he could try again. 

Trying to heal consistently took a lot out of him. Eren almost threw up when after four trials he became hungry until he realized it was a very normal, human hunger and not a Titan’s ravenous hunger. 

After a depressingly short debate whether this was a bad idea or not, Eren had used trial eight to cut through his coronary artery. There was too much blood and at one point he was sure he was going to die. He woke up two hours later soaked in blood that was never going to come out of his clothes. He burned them the first chance he got.

Teeth grew back, hair grew back, severed limbs grew back (although he refrained from trying this again after trial four’s failure), poison and most likely illness didn’t affect him, and even fatal injuries disappeared in less than a day. Constantly healing himself seemed to give Eren a fever and he almost balked at the high reading on the nurse’s stolen thermometer. 

If it wasn’t official before, Eren was officially a freak of nature now.

His natural body temperature was almost seven degrees higher than the average human’s and his weight hadn’t changed since he was ten years old despite having grown three inches since then. He was warmer, lighter, and faster. 

When he decided to run the ten-mile training course path around the forest – _Eren would never forget the look on Instructor Shadis’ face when he asked to go running instead of making use of their breaks_ – he hadn’t expected much. When he passed the five-mile mark and barely felt a drop of sweat, he smiled and ran faster. Muscle burn was just another form of injury, after all.

On top of insane stamina, it seemed he could regulate his own temperature in severe heat. He’d have to test his resistance to cold during the winter months. He didn't seem unnaturally strong and couldn't lift a heavy rock so healing was probably the full extent of his abilities.

When he reached trial fourteen, Eren decided to bring a mirror into the woods where he conducted experiments. Krista had given him a confused look – _and for fucks sake Ymir was seconds away from attacking him for even daring to talk to Krista_ – but let him borrow the small square mirror she kept in her pack of personal items. 

To familiarize himself with the process, Eren used the mirror to watch the steam close up several wounds. 

_“Be smart, Eren. A good doctor is analytical; rational. We look at every possible outcome. We notice the little things often overlooked.”_

Eren’s dad had been intelligent and resourceful; one of the best doctors in the Shiganshina district. He may have wanted his son to follow in his footsteps, but Eren refused to be the man’s legacy.

_“There’s an explanation for everything.”_

Even though Eren didn’t want to be a doctor, Grisha made sure to pass on his mostly unwanted wisdom whenever he got the chance. It was always little comments when they were washing dishes, or cooking, or doing schoolwork, and they were always about making sure Eren paid attention to the little details as much as he saw the big picture. 

Did this ability speed up his natural body’s healing process or did it pull organic matter out of thin air and mend it to his skin? A Titan’s body was a complete mystery, but if Eren was this light since becoming… whatever it is he was now, then the material of their skin couldn’t be very heavy. Their bones might be hollow. 

(Eren drew the line at testing this on himself).

He watched, a little captivated, as the blood hardened on his chest – he’d learned after a single day of experimenting that wearing too many clothes was a seriously poor idea – and the scorching steam disappeared. His limbs and blood never evaporated the same way a Titan’s would.

The mirror slid down from its propped position against a tree and Eren sucked in a breath at the strange spark of yellow in his eyes. He brought the mirror closer. Green mixed with yellow in his reflection and Eren decided this was one of the many things he needed to write down to explore later.

Paper wasn’t easy to come by, journals even harder to find, but Eren knew if he was going to tell Mikasa and Armin eventually that Armin would never accept anything less than careful record keeping. He would probably cry when he found out, maybe punch Eren in the face for being reckless, but he’d get over it in the name of discovering something new.

Eren snorted at the thought. 

Escaping Mikasa and Armin for hours every day was harder than hiding from Instructor Shadis and the other cadets. Eren played off his absences during break hours as being too overwhelmed by everyone asking questions about the fall of Wall Maria. 

It worked about as well as expected. Even when they were kids, Eren never liked being alone. Before Armin, Eren rarely smiled outside of his house. He’d never gotten along with the other kids and the ideas of freedom Grisha fed him certainly did not help Eren fit in.

Eren wanted to run ahead, but he couldn’t image not having Armin and Mikasa behind him. 

They knew he rarely ever cared about being alone – away from the other cadets, sure, but never away from _them_ – so Eren finally admitted a small truth.

“It’s about my dad,” he told them before trial eight. They were surprised he answered. “It’s weird that we haven’t seen him, and I think he was working on something.”

“I thought he died, Eren,” Armin admitted. 

“Before the attack, he went further into the walls for something important. He should have come for us by now,” Eren explained, clutching his chest. “Then there’s this.”

He showed them the key.

“If the last memory I have of my dad is watching him leave for the inner walls before the attack, then how do I have this?” Eren said, holding out the key to the basement. He’d complained about his dad’s research enough for them to recognize it.

“I just need a little bit more time to figure it out,” Eren said, backing away towards the path he usually takes into the woods. “I promise I’ll tell you when I do.”

“We could help,” Mikasa said, looking unsure. 

“You’re always helping.”

“Why the woods, then? What’s in there that helps you find more about Dr. Jaeger?” Armin asked, as inquisitive as ever. “Why do you have to do it alone?”

“He was my dad, not yours.” Eren ignored Mikasa’s wince. “I need time. Later, alright?”

They watched him during every meal. When Eren snuck out at night for more experiments, he had to be careful not to wake Armin who always slept facing the edge of his bed. The girls and boys weren’t separated, and you would think Mikasa would be the one to watch out for, but she’d always slept like the dead.

As for his classmates, Jean was a constant annoyance, nothing new. Other than a very close call with Ymir, Eren seemed to be getting away with his strange form of self-mutilation. 

_Ymir walked in just as Eren was shoving this week’s bloody shirt into the center of the laundry pile. She stared, eyebrow raised, at the red-soaked sleeve poking out._

_“Not that I care if you murdered someone, but you better make sure that doesn’t stain Krista’s clothes,” she said, looking bored._

Eren didn’t have time for the strangeness of his fellow cadets. If he wanted to join the Survey Corps in three short years, he needed to prove he had a handle on this healing power. If there was ever a time he needed to tell Captain Levi, or Maria forbid Commander Erwin, he needed to be ready to prove his worth to humanity.

Absently, Eren wondered if he could survive being eaten. Titans didn’t seem to digest their food so their stomach acid couldn’t be that powerful. Would Eren be able to heal in their stomach and cut them open from the inside to escape?

He did not want to test this unless the specific situation actually happened. 

But now that he thought about it, he really should test chemical reactions like acid. Maybe fire. Could he survive drowning or was that too far?

“Fuck,” Eren whispered, slamming a palm against his forehead. “I’m becoming my father.”

Eren wiped off the blood drying next to the key against his chest. If he ever got the hang of this enough to rapidly speed up healing, he might survive traveling on his own to find his father’s basement. He could join the survey corps and slip away. Or tell them about his ability and have them use him like a weapon.

A shield, Eren imagined. No one would ever have to die a pointless death again. The cadets hadn’t been given the chance to work with the omni-directional gear again so Eren was still working on the spear part to his plan.

It was getting dark. He’d already missed dinner but Eren knew Mikasa would sneak a few rations out for him.  
Eren arrived back at the training camp, wearing a shirt once again, in time to hear Shadis shouting for the cadets to line up. Instructor Shadis almost never held meetings after dinner. Eren refused to panic and peaked around a tree at the back of the crowd, hoping he could slip in as they gathered.

Armin noticed him because of course he did. He whispered something to Mikasa who scanned the crowd and nodded, then motioned Eren forward. He dashed from the tree line and fell in line with them.

“Thanks,” Eren said.

Armin sighed. “That was close.”

They listened as Instructor Shadis made his way down the lines, glaring at each of them. Eren wasn’t intimidated by this in the least. He’d faced down the horrors of this world already. Shadis was nothing.

Their instructor stopped at the front of the group.

“Someone has been stealing clothing,” he announced and Eren swallowed. He’d only had to burn two outfits so far, but with the limited number of shirts and pants provided for the cadets it was enough to be noticed.

“Those on laundry duty for the past month, step forward,” Instructor Shadis demanded in the tense silence that followed his announcement.

Eren almost stepped forward until he saw Reiner’s shaking head. Right, they’d switched duties. Eren was supposed to be in the kitchens and Reiner was being punished with his laundry assignment. 

Eren noticed Jean sneer at them when Reiner stepped forward instead of Eren, but he didn’t speak up.

Reiner, Sasha, and Thomas were the three assigned laundry duty for the past month. Not a single one of them was guilty.

“You three,” their Instructor said, “anything to report?”

“No, sir!” they shouted back in respect.

“Hmm.” 

Shadis walked in a circle around the three cadets. He spent a minute appraising them before turning to address everyone.

“These three will be skipping dinner tomorrow,” he yelled. Sasha screamed in the background. “Let this be a lesson to you all: there will be no stealing from this camp’s already limited resources. I could care less if you babies throw up or piss your underwear. Wear the clothes given to you.”

“Yes sir!” everyone but Sasha answered. 

“Odd,” Armin said as everyone broke away, the tension leaving.

Eren saw Ymir out of the corner of his eye and only breathed a sigh of relief when she ignored him and threw an arm around Krista. Whatever her priorities were, ratting Eren out wasn’t high on her list.

“How was laundry duty, bastard?” Jean interrupted, walking next to them. “Having fun? Stealing extra underwear, perhaps?”

“Says the guy who peed his bed until he was eight,” Eren countered.

“That’s not true!” Jean said, face red. He was right, it probably wasn’t, but Eren absolutely did not care. Eren wasn’t high on Ymir’s priorities and Jean was barely a speck on Eren’s.

Eren, Mikasa, and Armin walked faster to the barracks, with Armin turning around to apologize to Jean.

“Don’t walk away,” Eren heard Jean’s voice say behind him––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Eren blinked a few strands of grass stuck to his eyelashes. In the white noise around him, Eren heard Jean’s moan of pain.

“Mikasa, he didn’t mean to,” Eren heard Armin yell. Who didn’t mean to?

“Eren,” he heard Mikasa’s soft voice say. Were those her feet? Why was he eye level with her shoes?

“Eren,” she said again and suddenly Eren was being turned onto his back only for his body to suddenly jerk to life with a deep breath. He stared up at the sky, lying in the grass trying to remember how he got here.

“Man, you really did a number on him,” Connie’s voice came from his right.

“It was just a slap,” Jean said, sounding defensive. “You want me to really punch you, Jaeger? Stand up.”

“Annoying,” Eren managed to grumble, feeling like his body was on fire.

“Kind of a dick move, attacking someone from behind,” Ymir’s voice said. Eren wished she didn’t sound so amused. 

“Jean,” Krista’s voice said, soft and accusing.

“For Maria’s sake, I didn’t mean to! I barely hit him,” Jean cried.

“And what exactly is going on here?” Instructor Shadis demanded, arriving at the scene with a dark look on his face. Eren pulled himself to his knees in time to see the instructor glaring at him.

“It’s quite comical actually, sir,” Ymir said. “You see, Eren tripped over Mikasa here, who stopped to pick a flower, and Jean ran into Eren’s back hard enough to send him tumbling to the ground only for Jean to smack his chin straight into Eren’s elbow.”

Eren looked at Jean and noticed a darkening bruise on his face. He desperately tried to hold in a grin at seeing Mikasa’s handy work. She probably reacted without thinking.

“The most unlikely portion of that story is that Cadet Ackerman stopped to pick up a flower,” Instructor Shadis told them with zero tone infliction. “Barracks. Now.” 

“Yes, sir!” the remaining group answered, scrambling away. Eren stood up to follow Mikasa and Armin towards their beds. When Mikasa sat down at Armin’s and Eren’s bed, Eren knew she wasn’t focused on going to sleep yet.

“What happened?” Eren asked, sitting next to them on Armin’s lower bunk.

“Cheap shot,” Mikasa answered.

“Jean punched you from behind,” Armin elaborated.

Eren rubbed his arms. “I feel like I’m on fire,” he complained. “Stupid horse-face.”

“Is your neck okay?” Mikasa asked.

Armin sighed. “You could have fractured your spine. You two really ought to stop this weird rivalry.”

Eren took a gentle hand to the back of his neck and rubbed. He felt sort of fine now. Mikasa tugged his arm and pointed to the floor.

“Sit,” she said.

“I’m fine,” Eren insisted, trying to pull away.

“I will leave after,” Mikasa bargained. Eren glared at her but slid to the floor to settle in front of her.

Mikasa’s hands traveled to his neck and Eren felt his stomach drop to his toes. He remained frozen, eyes wide, feeling the same panic he felt when his mother was taken from him. His limbs were numb, his breath quick, his mind filing to the brim with a sudden, terrified feeling _he did not want to be here move move move move––_

Eren jerked to his feet, pulling away from Mikasa’s hands. The panic left immediately. He tried to hide how heavy he was breathing.

“Okay, I’m fine, go to bed now,” he snapped, rubbing a hand over his nape.

Mikasa nodded, looking put out. “Goodnight, Eren, Armin,” she said, leaving for her bed across the hall.

“Are you okay?” Armin asked, scooting back on his bunk to lay down. “She was trying to help.”

“I know, it didn’t,” Eren said. He climbed up the ladder to his bed. “I’m fine. You guys need to stop worrying so much.”

“Don’t give us so many things to worry about, then,” Armin’s voice called out.

There were many things to worry about. So many things, actually. Eren laid down on his side thinking about all of the new worries he had because if Eren was still human, even if only partly, why did he never want anyone to ever touch his neck again?

The nape was a Titan’s weakness. Jean hit Eren there and he collapsed. The nape was Eren’s weakness. 

Could Eren die if someone sliced through the back of his neck? The panic that flooded his mind as soon as he thought these words neither answered the question nor made him feel better.

If Eren shared a weakness with Titans – their only weakness – did that make Eren more Titan than human?

Eren pressed a hand over his mouth, curled up in his bed listening to the deep sounds of his classmates breathing and trying desperately to ignore the burning image of the grinning Titan that ate his mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** I looked back at a lot of parts from the manga and anime and couldn't find any evidence that they had paint. It was so weird. They have a newspaper and some way to print, but no books with color and no paintings as far as I could tell. At one point in the anime something looked like a painting, but it was black and white so probably charcoal. And obviously those inside the walls don't have photographs.
> 
> Did you guys know that originally the creator of SNK said Eren was going to know all along that he was a shifter but scrapped the idea?
> 
> …new story idea, anyone?
> 
> I’ve always wanted canon to explore more about shifter biology other than the times Hange ran experiment with Eren in his Titan form and when his tooth grew back. So many possibilities. So many unexplored avenues. 
> 
> And did anyone get Grisha's genius? A plant named photo, like photosynthesis or photograph. lol. He is depressed.
> 
> In case anyone was wondering: *Trigger warning for self-harm and general body grossness*
> 
> Trial 1: Cut on leg  
> Trial 2: Cut on face  
> Trial 3: Cut on chest  
> Trial 4: Attempted to cut off pinky finger (couldn’t cut through all the way even with anesthetic from nurses’ station and refused to try again)  
> Trial 5: Broken finger (he punched a tree)  
> Trial 6: Pulled tooth (used numbing paste and a rock)  
> Trial 7: Cut hair (did not work when he sliced off a small portion, but when he cut close enough to scalp himself, his hair slowly grew back over the spot to the length it had been when cut)  
> Trial 8: Cut coronary artery (bad idea. Never again)  
> Trial 9: Bruises all over body  
> Trial 10: Ate poisonous plant (stomach ache)  
> Trial 11: Cut + bruise + stab wound (was not fun nor repeated. Took much longer to heal)  
> Trial 12: Punctured eardrum (stuck a long thin piece of metal in his ear – was the better alternative to blinding himself)  
> Trial 13: Concussion (ran headfirst into a tree)  
> Trial 14: Cut on chest with mirror to watch
> 
> (this chapter has not been spell checked so bear with me)


End file.
